


January Rain

by Atlassie



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ben Hargreeves is a sad boi, Body Horror, Dissociation, Good Brother Diego Hargreeves, Good Sister Vanya Hargreeves, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, Not Beta'd, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sorry Not Sorry, Suicide Attempt, Tags Are Hard, We Die Like Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-16 08:09:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlassie/pseuds/Atlassie
Summary: In which things fall.Or: a prompt fill featuring Klaus in a... dark state of mind and Diego pulling him out of it. Triggering things here, be careful.





	1. Burn up with the water (The floods are on the plains)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaya_mckay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaya_mckay/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A prompt fill for Kaya-mckay!! Hope you like it lol I tired really h ard d
> 
> This is my first fanfiction! Yay!!! Also the longest thing that I've completed! Double yay!!!!
> 
> Please do watch out for the very dark themes in this as well as that one paragraph of descriptive body horror *nervous laughter*
> 
> This is 3,355 words that is mostly just angst and ouch that I wrote in the span of two days, mostly at night so,,, have fun
> 
> Also sorry for any errors, didn't beta it
> 
> Title from the song Mary by Big Thief
> 
> WARNINGS: Suicide attempt, dissociation, implied drug use and child abuse.

Chipped, black-painted nails digging mercilessly into his own crossed arms, he took a shaky step forwards. The sound of dozens upon dozens of cars speeding past couldn't drown out the sound of his guilt. Couldn't even drown out the screaming. Nothing could, not this time.

Not this time. 

~~~

Legs crossed, resting up on the dashboard, Diego sat in his car, a police scanner he had 'borrowed’ from Eudora propped up in the passenger seat beside him. He listened to the static and stray report of suspicious teenagers while he looked out at the city. Tonight was pretty much a bust. The most exciting thing that had happened over the radio was a robbery of some convenience store that was shutting down anyway, and even that had been cleaned up before he even considered going to check it out. So, there he sat in his car, considering what would happen if he put butter on a knife, threw some bread, and tried to butter it by throwing the knife close beside it.

A truly inspirational train of thought.

Before he could spiral further down into this rabbit-hole of insanity, the radio gave off a burst of white noise, followed by a voice. A voice that sounded an awful lot like Eudora. A voice that delivered grave news to his ears.

There was a junkie threatening suicide on the edge of Brooklyn Bridge.

Diego tried not to panic, not to jump to conclusions. That could be any old junkie, it didn't have to be him.

He decided it was best not to think about it, lest he freak himself out more. Still, he couldn't get rid of the nagging worry that had settled heavily in his stomach. What if it really was him? He'd always been self-destructive, for as long as Diego could remember. What if something bad had happened? What if it had finally sent him over the edge?

The rational part of his mind tried convincing him that No, there are thousands of other addicts that are probably less resilient than his brother, that No, the chances that it's him are one in a million.

Still, the paranoid-older-brother side of his mind would not be silenced.

Diego sat up in the driver's seat, and began to drive a little bit too fast towards the Brooklyn Bridge.

~~~

The sounds of the wailing sirens, beeping cars, howling wind, and incessant shouting voices of the living almost blocked out the even more eternal screeching of the dead. Almost.

Maybe if he were dead, too, they'd give up on screaming for him to help them.

He raised his hands up to his head, removing his nails from the flesh of his arms and digging them instead into the flesh around his ears.

Everything was always just too loud.

~~~

Diego finally gave up waiting in traffic to get on the Brooklyn Bridge, the shaking in his hands convincing him instead to get out and walk to the scene. He didn't have time for this.

He hastily parked his car as close to the bridge as possible and ran as fast as he could.

Meanwhile, the attempts at calming himself down still utterly failed every time, they had begun to make his anxiety grow only faster. He felt like something was wrong. He couldn't shake it. He needed to know that it wasn't him. He just needed to see that this hunch was wrong.

Diego raced down the bridge, slowing only when he caught sight of the familiar figure of Eudora Patch. He approached her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She turned to face him.

“Diego, you know you can't be here,” she sounded surprised, voice quickly changing to a tone of warning. “You know how many regulations this is breaking. What’s even gotten you interested in a jumper, anyway?” He said nothing. No witty reply, scathing remark, or even just a simple explanation. His hand just tightened its grip on her shoulder. A distant look glazed itself over his eyes and she felt her stomach drop. He wasn't acting normal. Something wasn't right.

“Diego? What is it?”

He still didn't say a word, just stared off into the distance, preparing himself mentally for the weight of what he wanted to say. He still hadn't worked up the courage to look towards the flashing lights and blaring sirens, where the suicidal junkie was no doubt waiting. He didn't want to see anything yet. He wouldn't be able to manage if it really was who he feared it would be.

“How's the jumper?” He said, pressing out his words slowly, carefully, keeping his voice balanced. He looked into her eyes, replacing any worry he might have had with cold determination.

Eudora looked back into his eyes, concern etched across her features. She felt as though she'd gotten whiplash, she'd just watched Diego -- emotionally stunted, unexpressive, unfazeable Diego -- look as though he were about to cry, then switch back into vigilante mode in the span of a second. This was serious.

“Well, he's hardly moved since we came here,” she swept a non-existent strand of hair away from her eyes. A nervous tic. “All he's really done is cover his ears. I tried to get everyone to turn off their godforsaken sirens, but they didn't listen to me. He looks like he might have dissociated, the stress of the situation too much for him, maybe.”

He swore under his breath. That wasn't a good sign. Just another pointer that it might be him. Diego had found him in his room once, when they were kids, doing the exact same thing. He'd had his eyes shut tight, the skin around his ears broken and bleeding from the grip of his nails. He'd tried to get his attention by touching his shoulder, but that had only made him curl in on himself more. Diego remembered shaking him, only able to bring him back to reality when he had shouted his number at him. They hadn't gotten names yet. That memory was the last straw. Diego took a steadying breath and said the one thing that might end with a concussive wave of relief, or earth-shattering heartbreak.

“I need to see him.” Eudora replied with a look, incredulous and confused. “P-please,” he continued, knowing full well she had heard his stutter resurface ever so slightly, “I ne-need to.”

It was actually the stutter that had convinced her to let him through. She waved him past, and just barely caught the deep-set look of gratitude he flashed her. She smiled faintly, looking on at him as he ran off.

He weaved through the scattered cars, officers and passers-by in his rush. The wind pushed against him, a storm was no doubt brewing in the distance. He leaned into the wind, desperate. He had already wasted too much time.

It was at that moment that Diego caught a glimpse of the jumper.

It really was him.

“Klaus!” Diego shouted, “Klaus? Klaus!” he kept yelling, praying to any existing deity out there that his cries didn't fall on deaf ears.

~~~

He was standing at the very edge of the thick, riveted metal beam, out over the water of the riverbed. Out over the water of his deathbed, really. A drop of rain flicked against his pale skin, the wind whipping right along with it. He stumbled a little bit. Through the howling, he thought he could hear a familiar voice shouting something, but instead of focusing on it, he was thrown deep into the trenches of a memory.

He remembered saying something to Ben, resulting in a sad look and a shake of his head. He looked almost as though he'd given up. He looked like he wanted to leave. So he did.

That was what had sent Klaus spiralling.

He had been relatively sober when it happened, meaning that spirits had been lurking in the dark corners of his vision, his mind, Ben being the only thing there to repel them.

And then Ben was gone.

They all came rushing to his head, waving their cold, broken-nailed, red, black hands in his face, pale faces dripping, some with water, some with bile, some with blood-- most with blood. Their eyes had been painted white, red leaking from the rims of their torn eyelids, hair ripped from their scalps, ears held to their heads by strings of runny flesh, cheeks gaunt, throats slashed, cleanly, gruesomely, muscles and organs falling, pouring from their stomachs, their necks, their faces, limbs wrenched, broken, twisted until their movements called the sickening pops of joints being separated, blue, purple, black feet pulled backwards and around, brains scattered in their hair, holes in their chest, fractured, splintering bone gouging through their flesh, scorching over previous scars, once pristine skin, blood flooding out of every inch of their bodies, seeping onto the ground, into their clothes, out from their mouths as they screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed--

In the dark, he had fumbled for something -- anything -- to stop the tidal wave as it crashed through the burst dam of his consciousness. He found a bag containing two white, unmarked pills, and didn't even hesitate to throw them into his mouth and swallowed. He waited for five minutes through the torrent, the hurricane of screeching faces, grabbing hands, toothless, bloody mouths--

Nothing had happened, nothing had changed, they hadn't gone away. So he found more bags, of powder, of pills, it didn't matter, he took whatever he could, until it had all turned black.

When he woke up, he didn't see Ben. He didn't even see the walls the room he was staying in. It was all them, just them, neverending them. He couldn't take it. He couldn't. He couldn't.

A thought streaked through his flickering consciousness: it was a miracle he wasn't dead. He didn't want to think about it, but the thought stuck to him. He focused on it, trying to ignore the purgatory around him.

It was a miracle.

He wasn't dead.

Two very different thoughts pushed together in one sentence, almost forced beside each other. The first seemed so happy, the second was only, uncomfortably sad, crawling just under his skin. It reminded him of he and Ben.

Ben had been kind, so unbelievably kind to his weird, deranged brother, always trying to be happy around him, even when he himself wasn't. Even when he'd died, Ben had come back to him, supported him through thick and thin, never judged, only cared.

It was a miracle. Ben was a miracle.

Klaus was a person who someone used to be able to look at and think, 'oh, they seem like a nice person, they seem fun.’ He looked like he was happy. Too happy. Something was definitely tearing him up inside. Something had snapped in his mind, bent out of shape. Something needed to be fixed, but nothing in the living world could fix it.

He wasn't dead. Klaus should be dead.

He should be dead.

He should die.

“NUMBER FOUR!”

~~~

Diego's voice pierced through the sound of the wind, projecting out, over the tumultuous waves. He only hoped that it had found its way into his brother's ears.

When Klaus turned around, eyes wide, lowering his hands, he thought he had never been happier. He felt elated, so much so that he almost laughed.

The joy bubbled up and immediately turned to ash in his mouth when he saw the eyeliner-stained tears scored down his brother's cheeks.

The world almost seemed to hold its breath.

“Number Four. I need you to get down from that ledge and come here.” Diego took a tentative step forwards. Klaus shook his head. “You can do that, ri-right?”

“No, no,” came a shaky voice. Diego nearly didn't hear it, over the howling of the quickening wind. “I can't, I won't, not this time, not this time.”

Not this time? Had this happened before? The thought that Klaus had tried to take himself away from them once already dug through his heart like a serrated knife.

“Ben stopped me last time, after he died. You won't. He's not here. Not this time,” Klaus’ voice was stronger now, strong enough that Diego could hear him giggling to himself. “Not this time.”

He took another step forwards. Rain had begun to fall faster now, harder. A gust of wind berated him.

“If-if you die,” Diego started, a sickening mix of horror, desperation, and fury with his own failure as a brother crashed down in his chest.

“If I die?” Klaus laughed a little bit. It turned into wracking sobs. “If I die what? Will you cry? Will dad cry? Will Vanya cry? Will anyone cry over the loss of some useless disappointment?” His hands were raking through his hair now. Diego could see them shaking from where he stood. “So what if I'm special? So what if I was some… some superhero, once? You've all made it pretty clear what you think of me. All of you!” Klaus shouted, raising his arms in front of his face, still clenching his fists around wet locks of hair.

Diego's heart broke a bit more with each word his little brother spoke, his insides twisted and knotted, a gaping hole felt like it had opened up inside his chest. This really was their fault.

They'd ignored Klaus, almost their entire lives. Ben was really the only one he'd really talked to. The only one he'd really liked. Even Ben had been taken away from him that one day.

Another memory surfaced in Diego's mind. They were thirteen. It had already been a while since everyone had sensed a change in Klaus. One night, Diego had been up late, unable to sleep. Pogo and Dad had been nowhere to be found, so he found himself venturing downstairs to find something to entertain himself with. As he walked down the halls with all of his siblings’ bedrooms, he'd noticed that Klaus’ door was slightly ajar, something unacceptable in their house during the night. He thought nothing of it, and kept moving. It was almost four in the morning, he'd been sitting at the kitchen table, flipping a butter knife from hand to hand when he heard the front door open. He also heard the faint sound of sniffling and quiet sobbing.

“Get him to bed, Pogo, now.” Dad's voice, harsh, eternally frustrated. “Stop crying, Number Four. This pathetic behavior of yours is the reason we did this exercise in the first place.”

He never asked his little brother what happened that night. Diego now realised that might have been a mistake. Klaus had changed after that. He'd already been drinking alcohol and smoking marijuana for about a year, he knew, but it was after that night that it had gotten so much worse. Klaus had started to become an insomniac, getting chronic nightmares whenever he finally managed to get to sleep. It was just after that Five went missing, too, something that Klaus and Vanya had both taken quite hard. Diego should have helped.

Instead, Ben had come to his rescue. Ben comforted Klaus, stayed in his room most nights to calm his nightmares. It helped, he got better for a few years, until Ben died, too. Then he'd left home, rarely to be seen again.

Diego remembered Vanya's face when she discovered Klaus had disappeared. She had come knocking on his door, the day it happened. She told him about the times she, Five, Ben, and Klaus had shared together. She had always been rather close to those four. It struck him then, what he'd say next to try and convince his little brother to come away from death.

“Look, Klaus, I kn-know Dad did some shitty things to you, I sh-should have been there, I-I-I know I should have,” a step forwards, “But we can't dwell on the p-past. We-we can't let the bad things de-def-define our l-l-lives,” another step, Diego realised he was crying, too, now, “I've s-said and done some hor-horrible things, e-ev-everyone has, b-but I can't wo-can’t worry about them a-all the t-t-time. I ha-have- I have to let tho-those things g-go.” This got a reaction out of Klaus. Not the step down he was hoping for, though. Instead, a broken sob escaped his brother's lips.

“But,” Klaus started, “But Ben, I hurt Ben and he left-- he hasn't come back, he probably hates me, Diego.”

“Ben is dead, Klaus,” Diego started carefully, “And so is Five. If you died, too, what would I tell Vanya? How do you think she would react to finding out that the three siblings she loves the most were cold, dead, and gone?” The wind howled, almost in affirmation. He took another step, he was almost arm's length away from his brother now. He was close enough to see every emotion that passed over his face.

Realisation followed by despair, a gasp and a sob. Next was anger, a shout of “She wouldn't care! None of you do!” Finished off with a fit of laughter, gleeful apathy, back to streaming tears.

“I do.”

“What?”

“I care.”

“No, you don't.”

Diego could no longer tell the difference between the tears and the rain on his face.

“Klaus.”

“Shut up.”

“Klaus, I--”

“Shut up!”

“P-p-please--”

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

“I'M SORRY!”

They looked at each other. Silent. The world spun on, the rain fell, heavy, and the wind still raged past. Diego reached out with his left hand, not caring that the action pulled his damp sleeve away from his umbrella-tattooed wrist. So what if Eudora knew about him, this was so, so much more important.

“I'm sorry,” Diego said again, “I'm s-so-- I-I'm so, so sor-sorry, K-Klaus. I-I should ha-have helped you. I di-didn't. I was wrong to ig-ignore you. P-please don't le-leave u-u-us- please d-don’t leave me like this. I love you, Klaus, so p-please, please co-come d-down from the le-led-ledge.”

“You…” Klaus looked at him, he spoke softly, “You... love me?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Klaus reached out a quivering hand, towards Diego's own. As he did, however, the rain began to pound down around them, lightning flashed through the sky, and thunder roared around them. The wind blew once more, and for a moment, time slowed.

~~~

He didn't want to fall anymore, but that's what he still found himself doing. The wet metal below him combined with the force of the sudden gust of biting wind was just a little bit too much for his weak body to handle.

The ghosts were silent, for once. It seemed like they realized what was about to happen. In the crowd of faces, he could have sworn he even saw Ben, tears in his eyes, an apology on his lips, reaching out to catch him. Klaus closed his eyes before he could see more. He didn't want to watch Ben's hand faze through his wrist as it had so many times before.

This was where he died, he figured. A failed suicide attempt, foiled by his damn dear older brother giving him a will to live again, only for mother nature to take away his new chance. In the back of his mind, he probably knew that this would happen. Something like this always did.

He supposed it was better this way. No more opportunities to screw himself up.

He was okay with that.

Not really.

Not anymore.

He almost began to panic, almost began to cry, to scream, but--

~~~

Just in time, Diego's hand closed around Klaus' wrist.

He pulled him up, with all his strength, determined not to let his little brother leave him behind.

He only felt himself calm when he held Klaus in his arms. They were sitting on the ground, huddled as close as they could get, shaking together, crying together, hearts beating at the same time.

“I love you.”

It took Diego a moment to process Klaus’ words, before he began to cry harder. He smiled, too, between the tears, and said the only thing he could.

“I love you, too.”

~~~

“I really thought I was going to die.”

“Not this time.”

Not this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it! I also hoped it lived up to ur expectations, my dear prompt-writer. I fear I may have hyped it up too much
> 
> Also, about the part 2 you'll no doubt ask for about Eudora questioning Diego about "WHAT THE FUCK WAS T H A T HUH" I do r e a l l y wanna write it and probably will, but maybe not right away??
> 
> Anyway thanks again, I really do hope you enjoyed it!
> 
>  
> 
> Edit: Let us never forget when I accidentally wrote "praying to any existing /diet/ out there" instead of deity. Keep ur bodies temples, my friends.


	2. The planets in a rose (Who knows what they contain)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things are told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, part 2! This one is 4,339 words, I believe. That's even longer than chapter 1 and at the time, chap 1 was the longest thing I'd finished writing! I wrote the last half(?) of this in the first two hours of my 9 hours flight home from vacation. (The next six hours were spent rewatching Umbrella Academy, and the last hour was spent listening to the soundtrack. That makes a solid 9 hours of nonstop UA lol.)
> 
> I reread this chapter before posting it, so hopefully there aren't too many mistakes but if there are, don't hesitate to tell me!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Title is from the song Mary by Big Thief

The white noise of the rain and the squeaking of the windshield wipers filled the silent void that sat between Diego and his brother. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, just one that hung around them like a sheet thrown over their heads. It was just them in their blanket fort, their own little universe.

The experience the two had just gone through together had connected them somehow, he could feel it. A bond between them that would not be so easily broken. It's not everyday you have to talk your own brother away from the edge of the world.

It's not everyday that he listens to you.

Diego was rattled deeply, right down to his core. He could feel his hands shaking against the steering wheel, his heart still beating too fast. He knew Klaus’ was, too.

As Diego drove, Klaus noticed he wasn't even close to the speed limit. He was alright with that. His head was leaned against the window, body curled up in the passenger seat as he watched the world pass by. Rain spattered against the glass, racing horizontally in front of his eyes, like the world had been thrown sideways. In a sense, for him, it had.

A flash of lighting ripped the sky in half, and for a split second, through the car mirror, Klaus could see Ben's face. He was curled up in the back seat, knees held up against his chest. His eyes stared out into the darkness of the world around him, considering what piece of it he was, how he fit. What part would he play? What part had he played already? It was the latter that took up the most room in his mind, spinning around him, crammed into his brain, insisting that it was there, that it needed to be answered, that this might all just be because of him. Diego was driving slowly, but Ben's mind was racing around in dizzying circles at a million kilometers an hour.

As they came to an intersection, slowing to a halt, Diego realized he probably didn't have everything he'd need to look after Klaus. There was hardly any space in the boiler room of the boxing gym, the only two options for sleep was a worn couch, and a mattress that was all springs. He couldn't even pretend that it was comfortable anymore. So, in a split second decision, he turned right instead of left.

Maybe she'd just been on his mind, after trying to guilt trip his brother out of suicide by throwing out her name, but going to Vanya's apartment was a lot more spacious, calm, warm, than his own cold, damp excuse of a living space.

He couldn't take care of Klaus by himself, he knew that. He was also really starting to think he might need some help of his own. Who better than his littlest sister? She and Klaus had been close for a time, Diego even considered her one of his favourite siblings, too. She was always so caring, even when everyone barely paid attention to her.

Diego would never admit that he found her quiet presence rather comforting when things got out of hand.

The sound of the rain and the windshield wipers played on in the silence of the night.

~~~

Vanya didn't know why, but something was refusing to let her sleep, that night. Something was happening, somewhere in the world, something important. She got these feelings, every once in a while, that important things were going on, but they would never really show up and affect her. Although...

Tonight was different. She was on edge, which was rare. She was restless, which was rare. She knew some event was going to come crashing down around her, which was rare.

She was wringing her hands together, considering getting up and playing the violin, but reconsidered. The walls were just too thin to be playing that late at night. Instead, she listened to the rain, whipping against her window. A welcome background noise, soothing her stress.

Her worries weren't calmed for long, as she heard someone knocking clumsily on the door, almost as though they were… kicking it? Hastily, she got up, but slowed as she approached the door. It could be anyone, out there. Her hand reached for the doorknob, grabbed it, but didn't turn. Not yet. Would they knock again?

She was answered pretty quickly, as another round of harsh kicking sounds came through into her room. She gave in, and checked the peephole.

“Please be awake, Vanya…”

It was Diego.

She couldn't see much more than his face, but his worried tone of voice and his very presence was enough to tick her off that this was important. Without any more hesitation, and a lot more urgency, she turned the knob and the door flew open.

“Diego? What's--?” She stopped talking abruptly, noting that he wasn't alone. He was holding Klaus, bridal style, his eyes a storm of relief, concern, and a hint of pleading. One look was all it took. She opened the door wider, and stepped aside, allowing them entrance.

“Thank you, Vanya,” Diego turned to her after he'd set Klaus down on her couch, “I don't know what I would have done without you.”

“Is he okay? Are you okay?” Vanya replied, looking between the two of them.

“He just fell asleep in the car on the way here, if that's what you're wondering about, but…” he trailed off, averting his eyes away from her. There was something he wasn't sure if he wanted to say.

“But?” She prompted, “Diego, what happened?” She took a step forwards, arm outreached to put a hand on his rain-soaked shoulder, but stopped, hovering a few centimeters above. Instead, she searched his eyes again. Sadness, dejection. He sighed, the faint sound of his voice weighted, layered with all sorts of complicated, mixed up emotions.

There was a story here.

A long one.

Vanya finally touched her hand to his shoulder, leading him to a chair. “Tell me?” She asked, quietly, as always.

It was her voice, Diego realized, and her wide eyes. She was so quiet and always so attentive, observant. He felt like he could tell her anything. So he did.

He told her about the scanner, the report of a junkie threatening suicide. Her eyes had widened, teared up, in disbelief. She'd already caught on to what had happened. He told her about seeing him standing on the edge of the Brooklyn Bridge, hands over his ears. A tear or two ran down her cheek. He told her about how he'd convinced him to come down, he told her about all the things he'd said to do so. She held her hand over her mouth, tears falling freely, trying to suppress her sobbing. She looked over at Klaus, sleeping on her couch, then back at Diego, staring across the room and out into the rainy night.

She doesn't remember when she fell asleep. Just the rain against the window.

~~~

When he woke up, Diego found a text on his phone. From Eudora.

You better explain what happened last night.

Simple, but effective. A sinking feeling was already settling in his stomach. He knew she would understand if he told her he couldn't today, his brother had almost committed suicide last night, but somehow he felt like using that as an excuse was no more than just that-- an excuse. So, he put on a pot of coffee for Vanya, and waited for her to wake up.

Luckily, she was a pretty good morning person. It wasn't long before her eyes opened. In fact, it was the sound of Diego putting down a steaming cup of caffeine that had gotten her up.

“Diego? What time is it?”

“Early,” he responded, “I need to go out for an hour or two. Are you okay on your own with…?” He stopped, but she knew what he meant.

“If he wakes up before you're back, I'll be here, don't worry. I'm not going anywhere today,” she picked up her mug, and took a sip of her coffee before adding “I'm pretty sure this counts as a big enough family crisis to get out of orchestra practice for a few days.”

“Alright,” he nodded, “If you're sure. I need to go down to the station and explain this whole mess to Eudora.”

“Eudora...? What more do you need to explain that she wouldn't know? She was there, right?”

“Detective Eudora Patch. Friend of mine. She doesn't know about my whole ex boy superhero thing,” He paused. “And I may have had to shout Klaus’ number at him to get his attention. She may have also seen my Academy tattoo.”

“Oh. Oh no. Really?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Good luck.” Vanya took another sip from her mug.

“Thanks,” he began to make his way to the door, “I think I'll need it.”

~~~

When Diego reached the front desk, he asked immediately for Detective Patch. After a small wait and a few passing stares from previous coworkers, he was ushered over to her desk, where she was talking quietly with Detective Chuck Beaman, about him, no doubt.

It was Beaman who saw him first.

“Diego,” he started, “You're here. Patch told me she messaged you this morning, didn't think you'd come to talk so soon.”

“I figured that we should get this discussion over with.” He spoke solemnly.

“So, you wanna do this here?” Beaman asked when he didn't move, “Or would you rather go to an interrogation room, or something? It's more private in there.”

“How about outside?” Diego looked over to Eudora after she voiced her suggestion. She could always suggest just the thing he needed to hear.

“Yeah,” he began, “Outside sounds nice.”

~~~

After Diego had run off towards the jumper in the bridge, it took her a moment, but she decided it would be best to get as close as as she could, Detective Beaman noticed her movement and followed close behind. Diego didn't talk much about himself, so maybe it was morbid curiosity, but he also looked like the world was about to end, so maybe it was just her deep-set desire to help. Or maybe it was that soft spot she always held for him that she couldn't seem to shake.

Her heart had nearly stopped when Diego had started calling out to his brother, who was apparently named Klaus, but received no reaction. She began to worry that his shouting might only make the situation worse, she almost stepped forwards to usher him away, but that idea was quickly blown away in the wind.

It was that very wind that had carried those next words to her ears.

“NUMBER FOUR!”

Number Four? Beaman seemed to share her confusion, mouthing those same words to himself.

Number Four.

It sounded like Diego was using it as a name. But what kind of sick parent would name their child after a number? Was it a title? A rank?

She didn't have time to deliberate further, as she could see the jumper lower his hands, head turned towards the sound of the voice calling to him. His body shifted so he could look at the man who was shouting to him.

Why had screaming a number at him caught his attention, when his name itself had not? Eudora had so many questions, but couldn't think about them just yet. She knew she wasn't the one with the answers. That person would be Diego, but she couldn't very well ask him right now, could she?

Instead, she watched their exchange with gruesome intrigue, an ominous wind whistling through the bars of the bridge. Diego was stuttering a lot. She didn't hear that often. She knew that he had a stutter, but she also knew that after he was nervous enough, which wasn't often, it would show itself more and more. And it was showing a lot.

She could hear the chopping waves of the river below them, over the sound of their conversation. The thought vaguely crossed her mind that the jumper looked like he would fall off the edge if the wind blew at just the wrong angle, at just the wrong strength.

Her heart nearly stopped when it did. He'd been about to take Diego's hand, when the heaviest gust yet blew him right over the edge of the bridge.

As much as the sight had pained her, she couldn't help but notice a circular tattoo on Diego's wrist. She couldn't make out what exactly it was, but it wasn't something he'd shown her before. In fact, ever since they met at the police academy, he'd always wear long shirts that covered his wrists, would make excuses not to pull up his sleeves. The only time he'd ever worn a short sleeved shirt was when they had run together for a while, but even then, he wore sweat bands that covered that exact spot where his tattoo was. He used to tug at the left one, making sure it stayed in place.

She never considered he'd hide something so simple as a tattoo from her.

Maybe it had nothing to do with the situation in front of her now, as the three of them stepped outside, but there was a feeling fluttering around her chest that there was more to it than what met the eye.

Snapping out of her thoughts, when she noticed the silence, she shook her head quickly and spoke.

“Alright. Explain.” Simple, but effective.

“O-okay.” Diego was already stuttering, not a good sign. Not a good sign at all.

“Are you okay with this?” Eudora couldn't help but ask, his nerves were affecting her. As unemotive as he tried to be, even though he usually succeeded, she could tell how he was feeling, more often than not, and he was very uncomfortable. He pulled on his left sleeve, eyes darting around, looking anywhere but the two people confronting him.

“Y-yeah,” he murmured, “J-just a subject I don't exactly like to bring up.”

“I mean, if it's that bad, we don't have to--”

“No, no,” he assured her, “I think I owe you an explanation. B-besides,” he paused, “If I didn't tell you, you'd figure it out for yourselves and, w-well, I'd rather you hear it from me.”

“Alright,” Beaman spoke softly, softer than usual, even he could tell that this wouldn't be a fun experience for their friend. “Where should we start then?”

Diego opened his mouth to speak, fidgeted a little, and closed it again. He didn't know. What could he say to convince them he wasn't just odd, a freak, even? What could he say that would convince them he wasn't just lying? There were so many things to say, too many ways to say them.

“I don't know,” was all he said, “I don't know where to start.” He sounded at a loss, this tone such a drastic change from the forceful, clean voice he usually spoke with. It put a small crack in Eudora's heart.

“How about you tell us who that man was last night? Your brother, right?”

“Yeah. Klaus.”

“Why did you call him Number Four?” Diego knew the question was coming. He'd hoped it wouldn't be so soon - the second question directed at him, no less - but here he was. He opened up his heart, and lay his story bare.

“Because that's what our father named him.” Didn't mean he'd make it easy to read, though. When he didn't speak again, Eudora just looked at him, practically willing him to elaborate. “See, m-my name is te-technically Number Two.” He looked away again, before either of the two cops could see how embarrassed he felt. They noticed anyway, although it certainly wasn't the first though on their minds.

“Number Four, now Number Two?! What kind of names are those? Who would name their kids that?” Beaman exclaimed.

“I-I've gotten it changed since then.”

“Yeah, I can see why. Diego Torez is a lot better than Number Two.”

“A-about that,” he sucked in a breath, “Even after I changed my name to Diego, my father demanded I share his last name, so legally, Torez is my middle name. There was an exception - forced by my father - I'm allowed to use it as my last name, but that really isn't what it is.”

“Seriously?” Eudora gave him a look again, “Care to elaborate?”

“You guys remember the Umbrella Academy, right?”

“Yeah,” said Beaman, “What about them?”

“W-would you be-believe me if I to- if I told you th-that,” Diego composed himself, “I-I was one of th-them?” He watched their eyes widen, almost comically, a range of emotions flitting across their faces, before settling on disbelief. When Diego didn't speak, Eudora did for him.

“You're serious?”

“W-would I joke about this?”

“Prove it,” came Beaman's voice, ever the skeptic, “Prove you were part of the Umbrella Academy.”

“Al-alright.”

Diego sighed, pulled out a spare knife from his back pocket, keeping it hidden - he'd taken off the part of his outfit with all his knives on it last night - and took a few steps back.

Balancing it on his fingers, still hidden behind his back, he spun it around once or twice, before throwing it straight at Beaman's face.

Before it could get anywhere near hitting him, though, Diego willed the knife to curve sideways, ninety degrees.

So there the knife sat, in the wall of the police station, a few centimeters away from Eudora's nose.

She let out an adorable little squeak of surprise. “You--”

Hand over his eyes, he nodded.

“I’m the Kraken, Number Two, Diego Hargreeves, wh-whatever you want to call me.” He brought his hand down, instead, he pulled up his left sleeve to show them the tattoo of an umbrella on his wrist.

“Holy shit,” Beaman gasped, “Diego's a superhero!”

“I-I-I'm really not--”

“Dude I was your biggest fan when you were a thing!”

“C-can we--”

“Gotta say the Kraken always held a special place in my heart. Who would have thought he'd turn out to be my friend! And I didn't even know!”

“C-could we m-move on? Maybe?” Diego pulled the knife out from where it was lodged in the wall, flipping it, this way and that. It calmed him down, a little.

“Right, right,” Beaman quieted down, “Sorry.”

“I-it's fine. It's just--” Diego tried again, “On the inside, the Academy wasn't all sunshine and rainbows.”

“Oh?” 

“Dad-- Hargreeves,” he spun the knife between his fingers. This would be tough to talk about. He didn't want to, really, but Beaman's excited rambling had set something off inside him. The Academy had never been something awe-inspiring, not from their point of view. Diego figured he should show him that. “He cl-claimed t-to be our father, h-having adopted us all, but he was an-anything but. He- He was cruel. I don't think a s-single one of us walked away without some kind of t-tr-trauma. Luther-- Number One, Spaceboy, is the o-only exception. He was the one who didn't leave, but he was always obsessed with being the best in Hargreeves’ eyes, a-at my expense, m-most of the time.” 

“Diego…” Eudora hadn't spoken for a while, she was finally making her voice heard again, “I'm so sorry.”

“It’s okay, r-really.”

“No, it's not.”

“What do you mean?”

“I always figured there was something wrong,” Eudora spoke softly, gently, “With the Academy, I mean. When I watched them-- you on the TV, that day you went public, two of you moved away from Hargreeves when he came to stand with you. It always put me off. They seemed scared of him. I always felt like there was something going on behind the scenes, something horrible that they'd never tell us. Even to think that you were all nothing but numbers to him…”

“Oh, Eudora…” Diego felt his heart melt a little bit, she could always see what others couldn't. He put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug. But still, behind the warmth he felt for her in that moment, a pinprick of something darker made its way into the foreground of his mind. He broke away enough to meet her eyes. “Who were the two that seemed scared of him? Do you remember?” Eudora furrowed her brow a little, trying to recall.

“I think,” she started, uncertainly, “It was those two called the…” she paused, “I don't really remember, but the one covered in blood. It was him and the Séance, I think.” This certainly left Diego thoughtful. He knew those two had never liked Hargreeves, but since when were they so terrified of him that they'd try to get away like that? Sure, all of them were scared of Hargreeves, but they could stand next to him without panicking. This was worth looking into, Diego thought. Bless Eudora and her ability to see these things.

“What were they're names?” Beaman finally spoke again, the glow of the Academy gone, no doubt, now that he knew the truth.

“The Horror and the Séance, better known in the family as Ben and Klaus.”

“Klaus? Like, the guy from yesterday?” Beaman said, horror whisping over his features.

“The very same.” Diego nodded solemnly. His brother had nearly thrown himself off a bridge last night, and now he learned that he'd been terrified of Hargreeves. There was something he wasn't telling them. A ball of anxiety weighed down in Diego's stomach, one he knew wouldn't go away for a while.

“They never talked about it, but I think those two had it the worst when it came to powers,” Beaman made a little noise of agreement.

“The Horror had those weird tentacles, right? He would always say in interviews that he never liked to use his powers, I remember.”

“Yeah. Ben, if he had grown up normally, he would have been one of those kids who would cry if he stepped on an ant, but he had the most violent power. Hargreeves exploited it, made him kill people with it. It even killed him, in the end. He hated his hero name, too. He wasn't a horror, he was probably the kindest out of all of us.”

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry,” Eudora, ever the comforting soul. Diego wanted to stop talking, but it was all just spilling out of him now.

“He and Klaus were always close,” he continued, he couldn't not continue, now, “They both understood each other, knew just what to say. They were both pretty scared of their powers, too. They both had nightmares. More often than not, if you were looking for Ben, you'd look in Klaus’ room. They even slept there together, before Hargreeves put locks on his door. They kept each other's bad dreams away, I think. It was after he separated them that if one didn't wake up screaming in the night, the other did. That's actually when Klaus started getting into drugs. They shut off his powers.”

“What are his powers, exactly, anyway?” Eudora inquired. “I know it has to do with ghosts, right?”

“He can commune with the souls of the dead, yeah. Hargreeves told us that he could get them to do things for him, but from what I gathered, that's not how it worked at all. I think it's more like they haunted him, day and night. I've found him screaming for someone to shut up and go away before, his hands over his ears, like you saw last night. Just more proof that Hargreeves lied about how his powers worked.” Diego hung his head. “I think… I think I should have been there for him more. We all should have been there for each other more. I think I should have been better.”

“The past is in the past, Diego,” Eudora smiled up at him, “To admit that you were wrong means a step in the right direction. You're helping him recover now, right?” He nodded, “See? I'm sure that means a lot to him.” Her face shifted to an air of concern. “Hang on, if you're here, where's he?”

“With our sister, Vanya.”

“Right, you mentioned her when trying to talk him down. The only girl in the group was the Rumor, right? Isn't she some movie star, though? Allison?”

“Vanya… she's Number Seven.”

“There were only six in the Umbrella Academy, though.”

“Yeah. Vanya,” Diego paused, considering how to phrase this next little tangent, “She wasn't technically part of the Academy. She was always kept separate. She was born without powers, Hargreeves would always keep her in the house when we went out on missions, she taught herself to play the violin whenever we left, though. She's always loved music. We should have been better to her, too. She wasn't ever included in anything.” His were downcast, guilt-ridden. “Honestly, I should get back to them. Klaus'll be waking up soon, no doubt, if he hasn't already.”

“Right, yes,” Beaman said quickly, “Of course.”

“I've said it before, I'll say it again. I'm so sorry all this happened to you and your siblings, Diego,” Eudora wore a soft smile, as she looked up at him, “If you ever need to talk, I'm here, okay?” He smiled back down at her, before pulling her in for another hug.

“Of course. I'll be off now, I guess.”

~~~

His eyes opened to the sound of a violin, the smell of coffee and old books, Ben, looking over to meet his eyes, sitting curled on a chair next to him.

Ben smiled weakly when he saw he was awake. Klaus smiled, just as weakly, back at him.

His brother looked upset. His eyes drifted away, towards the window, watching Vanya play her violin for a moment before bringing his head down, forehead resting on his knees.

Klaus closed his eyes again, listening to the white noise of the drizzling rain on the window, and the haunting, mournful melody of the violin taking center stage, as he drifted back off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo haha that was a lot of explaining. Hopefully not too much, I just thought I should tell it how I wanted to. This really was just an unnecessary continuation that I felt like adding.
> 
> So yeah! Hopefully that wasn't boring or something.
> 
> ANyway that was also a lot of headcanons, huh? About the setting (I wanted to get this out) this story takes place a few years before the show I think, Vanya never wrote a book, and it's 100% gonna be canon divergent, so look forward to that.
> 
> Keep ur bodies temples, my friends.


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